|
| |
|
HOW TO PICK
THE RIGHT IN-LAWS
|
|
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and it's time to gather all the
children and grandchildren together for a warm and hearty family
celebration.
So where the hell is everybody?
"They're all going to their in-law's houses," my wife
replied when I asked her a few weeks ago how many we'd be having this year.
"We're all alone."
"You've got to be kidding me?" I cried. "Four
kids and seven grandkids and they've all dumped us?"
"We'll get them for Christmas," she said. "It's
only fair."
Fair. What does fair have to do with it? Thanksgiving is
supposed to be a time when families get together and give thanks. My family
left me high and dry. Thanks for nothing.
For those of us with children, this is exactly why you should
be more vigilant when your child is considering a prospective spouse. Not
only should you consider the candidate's qualifications as a lifelong
partner, you should consider the candidate's parents.
I wasn't vigilant enough. I didn't understand the ramifications
of having my children marry people who had parents who cared about them. And
worse yet, most of them lived within driving distance.
Not only did these prospective in-laws want to see their child
on holidays, they expected it. And with their child goes my child, and my
grandchildren. Why didn't I see this coming and find a way to stop it?
I could have tried to steer them towards a partner who was
estranged from their parents, or who had parents that had moved to Zimbabwe,
or best of all, grown up an orphan. Then the future couple would be mine,
all mine, for every holiday to come.
But it was not to be. All four of my children found spouses
that actually love their parents. Three of the four live in our area, and
the fourth is a quick plane ride away. I'm doomed to die a lonely old man,
at least on half the holidays.
There is one consolation. My youngest daughter married a
wonderful gentleman of Indian heritage, and his lovely parents are strict
practitioners of the Hindu religion. Yep, Christmas is all mine, year after
year. Thanksgiving isn't high on their agenda, either, so we quite
often nab our daughter and son-in-law for that one, too.
Not this year, though. Off everyone went to a wedding for
relatives in India, leaving me all alone. I finally had an advantage, and
they squandered it.
Of course, it could be worse. The in-laws could be divorced,
leaving my children's spouse to balance yet another household in the holiday
sweepstakes. That could leave me with only 1/3 the time, which would be a
disaster.
Naturally, I explained all this to my wife, who wasn't
interested in the least. She did pick up on the divorce aspect, though.
"Considering how crestfallen you are about spending
Thanksgiving without your children," she said, "I can only assume
you'd prefer to stay married to me and avoid another split in time."
I thought about the mathematics. If the in-laws were
acrimoniously divorced, and my wife and I were acrimoniously divorced
(that's a sure thing), I would see my children only 1/4th of the holidays.
Not good.
"That's one of the many reasons I don't want a
divorce," I answered. "Holidays wouldn't be nearly as much
fun."
That was met with silence. "Without you," I added.
She seemed appeased, fortunately. We went on to discuss what we
should do for Thanksgiving now that we would be all alone. We thought about
doing a FriendsGiving, but decided we didn't want to cook just for friends.
Instead, we invited ourselves over to my sister's house, who
lives about 40 minutes away. Her children and grandchildren were spending
Thanksgiving at in-laws as well, so we'll be thankful we can sit around the
table and commiserate together.
Then, come Christmas, we'll all be one happy family again. And
someday, when we find a place we can all fit, we might even invite the
wonderful in-laws. Assuming, that is, they'll reciprocate when it's their
turn. Fair is fair.
|
|
|
